Dovhakiin
by Moonsong Lunaris
Summary: A Dunmer in the wrong place at the wrong time finds himself at the chopping block. When a dragon attacks, he is flung into a long and bloody battle to save the world, and learns startling truths about himself...


His head was SCREAMING with pain. It felt like his skull was splitting in two. His body swayed, not helping matters. Slowly, the pain dulled. He could hear voices.

Nevari cracked an eye open. It was morning. Raising his head, he surveyed his surroundings. He was in a wagon, one in a line of them, which certainly explained the swaying. His wrists were bound, and his body ached.

He looked around, and saw several others in the wagon with him, all of them Nords. Nevari shook his head, trying to clear it. One of the others noticed the movement.

"Hey. You. You're finally awake, eh, Elf?" The Nord smiled weakly. "You've got a nasty lump on your head."

"That explains the headache," Nevari muttered. "What happened?"

"You were trying to cross the border, weren't you?" the Nord inquired.

Nevari nodded, his head throbbing with the movement.

"Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us. And that thief, over there." The Nord nodded to one of the men in the back of the cart.

"Damned Stormcloaks," he spat coldly. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I'd have stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." He looked to Nevari. "You, there. You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Imperials want."

"We are all brothers and sisters in binds now." The first said.

"Shut up, back there!" the driver snapped.

Nevari shot a glare at the driver, but remained silent.

"What's up with him, huh?" The thief nodded to the last prisoner, a richly dressed- and gagged- nNord.

"Watch your tongue!" the Stormcloak snarled. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

Nevari snapped his head around, staring at the gagged man.

"Ulfric?" the thief asked in surprise. "The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion.. and they captured you... oh Gods, where are the taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going," the Stormcloak murmured, "but Sovngard awaits us."

"No, this can't be happening," the thief was trembling now. "This isn't happening!"

A moment's silence, then the Stormcloak spoke up once again. "What village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?" the thief mutter bitterly.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home," the stormcloak said simply.

"... Rorikstead." The thief trembled with fear. "I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."

The Stormcloak nodded, then turned to Nevari. "And you, Elf?"

Nevari sighed. "I have no home. I'm nothing more than an unlucky wanderer."

They were nearing a village now, and Nevari could see soldiers above the gates.

"General Tullius, sir!" one of them called. "The headsman is waiting."

A cold weight sank in Nevari's stomach.

"Good," the driver muttered. "Let's get this over with."

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh," the thief rattled off frantically, "Divines, please, help me!"

"Look at him," the Stormcloak spat. "General Tullius, the military governer. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him."

Nevari's head snapped up, eyes wide with shock and burning with hatred. "The Thalmor? Here?"

"Damned Elves. I'll bet they had something to do with this." The stormcloak winced as he looked at Nevari. "Er, no offense." He looked around, suddenly recognizing his surroundings. "This is Helgan. I used to be sweet on a girl from here... Wonder if Ilav is still making that mead with the juniper berries." He sighed. "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe..."

the wagons were slowing now.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief inquired nervously.

"Why do you think?" the Stormcloak asked. "End of the line." he looked towards Nevari. "Let's go," he smirked weakly, "Shouldn't keep the guards waiting."

"No, wait!" the thief pleaded as he scrambled out of the cart, "We're not rebels!"

"Face your death with courage, thief," the stormcloak spat in disgust.

"You've got to tell them, we weren't with you," the thief continued frantically, "This is a mistake!"

As one soldier pulled out a scroll, a female soldier called out, "Step toward the block when we call your name, one at a time!"

The Stormcloak sighed bitterly. "Empire loves their damn lists..."

The soldier with the list started calling out names. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

The Stormcloak spoke defiantly as the Jarl stepped forward. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric."

"Ralof, of Riverwood."

The Stormcloak stepped forward in silence, as had his Jarl.

"Lokir, of Rorikstead."

The thief- Lokir- staggered a few steps, crying, "No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Suddenly, he bolted. "You're not gonna kill me!" he screamed.

"HALT!" shrieked the female soldier; ignored, she called to surrounding guards. "Archers!" A guard immediately nocked and loosed a bolt.

The thief crumpled in midair, the arrow planted through his heart.

Silence flooded the area. The woman turned back to the other prisoners. "Anyone else feel like running?"

The guard looked back at his list, scowling slightly. "Wait," he called, looking up at Nevari, "You there. Step forward."

Nevari stepped up to the guard, a challenge in his eyes.

"Who," the soldier questioned cooly, "are you?"

The Dunmer remained silent for a moment before answering. "Nevari Llothas. Originally from Vos."

The soldier blinked, frowning slightly. "Another refugee?" He shook his head sadly. "You picked a bad time to come to Skyrim, my friend..." He turned to the woman. "Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list..."

"Forget the list," she said coldly, "he goes to the block."

"By your orders, captain." The soldier turned back to Nevari. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure your body is returned to Morrowind..."

Nevari shook his head. "Burn my body, and scatter my ashes to the winds. I have no home in any province."

The soldier blinked in surprise, then shook it off. "Follow the captain, prisoner..."

Nevari turned and followed the cold woman, and took his place amongst the condemned. He found himself standing next to the Stormcloak from the same wagon, Ralof.

General Tullius stepped towards the gagged Jarl. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgan call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne."

Ulfric growled around the gag.

"You started this war," Tullius stated, "and plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

Nevari seethed at the general's tone.

A strange, echoing roar rolled over the village; prisoners, soldiers, and townsfolk alike jolted at stared at the sky apprehensively.

"What was that?" a guard asked nervously.

"It was nothing," Tullius replied uncertainly. "Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius!" the captain crisply responed, before turning to a priestess. "Give them their last rites."

The robed woman stepped forward, raising her arms as she spoke. "As we condemn your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with," snapped the Stormcloak to Nevari's right, stepping towards the chopping block.

"As you wish," the captain stated.

"Come on!" the Stormcloak spat sd hr knelt. "I haven't got all morning." He set his head upon the block. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials." The headsman raised his axe. "Can you say the same?"

Nevari looked away as the axe came down.

"You Imperial bastards!" Screamed a female voice in the line.

"Justice!" yelled a voice in the crowd.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" called another.

"As fearless in death," Ralof murmured sadly at Nevari's left, "As he was in life."

"Next," called the captain, "The Dark Elf!"

A second roar echoed over the village, sounding closer than the last.

"There it is again," Ralof scanned the skies. "Did you hear that?"

"I said," the captain snarled between clench teeth, "next prisoner!"

"To the block, prisoner," Tullius warned, "Nice and easy."

Nevari strode forward, accepting his fate. He knelt, then hesitated. A soldier behind him shoved his head roughly down; Nevari turned from the sight of the severed head already in the basket. He could see the headsman, and the tower behind him, and...

"What in Oblivion is THAT?" a guard cried.

"Sentries, what to you see?" the captan's voice was tight.

"It's in the clouds," came a faint reply.

Nevari watched as the creature swooped low and landed heavily on the tower, the force of it staggering the headsman. There was no mistaking it. A...

"DRAGON!" several voices screamed in shock and horror.

The creature regarded the men below it, then opened its mouth. Nevari thought he caught words, but only a blast of energy blew from the creature's gaping maw, knocking the headsman to the ground.

As Nevari stared up at the massive beast in shock, clouds begain the swirl in the once clear skies, and fire began to rain down. Nevari struggled to get up, but was knocked aside by some person in terror, striking his head against the block and falling unconcious.

"Hey, Elf!" The voice cut through the darkness, rousing Nevari. "Get up! Make for the tower, unless you'd rather be crushed!"

Nevari struggled upright, and followed the blurred form of Ralof towards the tower. He staggered in, barely dodging a ball of fire, and leaned heavily against the wall.

"Jarl Ufric," Ralof gasped, "what is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends," the Jarl replied softly, "don't burn down villages."

Several minutes passed, and the chaos outside raged on. Finally a voice cut through the fearful darkness. "We need to move, now." Ralof looked around. "Up those steps. Nothing else, we can find a safe path from the top."

Nevari headed up first; he'd made it halfway up when he saw that the way was blocked. "It's blocked off at the top," he called down, descending a few steps.

"We'll have to move-" Ralof's words were cut off as a horrible crash sounding behind Nevari. The dunmer whipped around and found himself staring into the dark eye of the massive black creature.

The massive dragon drew in its breath, and spoke three strange words. More out of reflex, Nevari jumped halfway down the stairs, narrowly avoiding a massive blast of fire. Another man was not as lucky: he was incinerated on the spot.

The beast looked aready for another shot, but pulled away with a frustrated shriek; clearly, those soldiers still alive outside were still fighting to defend their village.

Nevari risked the gaping hole on the wall. the village was a scene of devastation. buildings has been utterly destroyed, and fires burned everywhere.

Ralof came up behind him. "See the inn on the other side?" He pointed. "Jump in through the roof, and get going. We'll follow when we can!"

Nevari nodded and leapt down. He landed roughly, but was on his feet immediately. he moved through the smoldering house, his ankle throbbing from the landing. Dropping down to the first floor, he could now see a small group of survivors gathering nearby. He grimly wished them luck as he limped off.

He dodged another gout of flame from the dragon, then ducked into an alley. Nevari hugged the wall until he reached another opening. An Imperial came up behind him and called a warning.

Nevari froze as the dragon landed on the wall above him, its claws mere inches from his face. The beast let loose another blast of fire, incinerating a hapless guard, then took to the air once more.

The Imperial shot past Nevari. "Follow me!" he shouted, and Nevari obliged without hesitation.

They broke into a square filled with the dead, dying, and fighting. The imperial found Tullius, and spoke with him for a moment before dashing back towards Nevari.

"It's you and me, prisoner," He called, motioning for Nevari to follow him. "This way!"

The Dunmer trailed the soldier through the torn and burning streets, until they were confronted by a figure in the smoke.

"Ralof!" the Imperial snarled," You damned traitor! Out of the way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar," the stormcloak repied with equal hatred, "And there's no stopping us, this time!"

"Fine!" Hadvar yelled in frustration, "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngard!"

Ralof turned to Nevari. "You, come on!" He called, running towards the fort. "Into the keep!" He threw himself through the door.

Without a second thought, Nevari plunged after him.


End file.
